Wind Blows And Water Flows
By Windy McDohl
Disclaimer: All characters portrayed here belong to Konami CE. The law prohibits stealing.
Warning: SPOILERS!!!
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Chapter 5: Flowers In The Churchyard
Jowy Atreides walked silently along the pathways of the old, deserted churchyard. The sound of bells - he heard the chimes from the tower at the other end of the field… the very bells that rang the melodies of the departing… The songs that he had heard so often since the starting of the war.
At the corner of his eye, he caught sight of a crimson-clad lad, kneeling in front of a newly erected tomb. Jowy's heart nearly skipped a beat - the figure reminded him of his childhood friend. Was it he?
"I've come to pay my last respects to him," the figure said, turning around to face him. Jowy gasped in shock. It was the Young Master himself, kneeling down before Luca's tomb. His large dark eyes held no light; they were devoid of emotion. Somehow, McDohl's sorrow reminded him of his own, when he had received news of Nanami's demise. He knew that it would only make the young leader of the opposition army hate him more…
"He doesn't hate you, Jowy Atreides."
Jowy looked up, stunned. McDohl could read minds? If so, how could he not have prevented Luca from being murdered like that? Didn't he see Luca Blight once as his friend?
"I could have prevented it."
One sentence was enough to answer Jowy's musings. McDohl stood before him, smiling sadly. Strewn on his feet were white flower petals - snowdrops, the symbol of hope. Jowy perceived this silently, but questioningly, at the other youth. At that, the youth's smile broadened.
"It was his release…" he whispered, letting the breeze waft his words to Jowy. "He wanted to be free."
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He heard the screams.
There was a fire in his eyes, but acceptance in that fire.
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"I heard his very last words… Words that no other soldier or man has heard."
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"Thank… you…"
"Thank you… for everything…"
"And…for being my light… in this… dark world."
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"The world was his hell on earth, Jowy." He scattered more petals upon the otherwise bare grave. "And… I decided to show him his way to his heaven."
A gust of wind sent Jowy's long hair whipping against his pale face. He didn't bother to push it back and away though. Taking a deep breath, he inhaled the sweet scent of lavender oil mixed with the crushed petals of the white winter flowers.
"But I don't feel sorry for what I have done." He turned to face Jowy. "And you… You'll take that road not taken. And you'll bring peace to your land. And you'll bring happiness to your long-lost friend, the way I never could to mine."
"I hope so."
"Then take these," McDohl pushed the white flowers into Jowy's hands. "And your hope will become a reality."
Jowy let his tense face soften into a smile. "Thank you."
"And thank you," McDohl looked up into the winter sky. It was starting to snow. Gentle white flakes fluttered down like a million feathers from the wings of angels sighing down on man. The cold white flakes settled themselves on the two figures standing facing each other in the quiet churchyard and the frozen ground below. The landscape began turning white, covered by a layer of ice.
Spring was just around the corner.
To Be Continued
By Windy McDohl
Disclaimer: All characters portrayed here belong to Konami CE. The law prohibits stealing.
Warning: SPOILERS!!!
__________________________
Chapter 5: Flowers In The Churchyard
Jowy Atreides walked silently along the pathways of the old, deserted churchyard. The sound of bells - he heard the chimes from the tower at the other end of the field… the very bells that rang the melodies of the departing… The songs that he had heard so often since the starting of the war.
At the corner of his eye, he caught sight of a crimson-clad lad, kneeling in front of a newly erected tomb. Jowy's heart nearly skipped a beat - the figure reminded him of his childhood friend. Was it he?
"I've come to pay my last respects to him," the figure said, turning around to face him. Jowy gasped in shock. It was the Young Master himself, kneeling down before Luca's tomb. His large dark eyes held no light; they were devoid of emotion. Somehow, McDohl's sorrow reminded him of his own, when he had received news of Nanami's demise. He knew that it would only make the young leader of the opposition army hate him more…
"He doesn't hate you, Jowy Atreides."
Jowy looked up, stunned. McDohl could read minds? If so, how could he not have prevented Luca from being murdered like that? Didn't he see Luca Blight once as his friend?
"I could have prevented it."
One sentence was enough to answer Jowy's musings. McDohl stood before him, smiling sadly. Strewn on his feet were white flower petals - snowdrops, the symbol of hope. Jowy perceived this silently, but questioningly, at the other youth. At that, the youth's smile broadened.
"It was his release…" he whispered, letting the breeze waft his words to Jowy. "He wanted to be free."
________________
He heard the screams.
There was a fire in his eyes, but acceptance in that fire.
________________
"I heard his very last words… Words that no other soldier or man has heard."
________________
"Thank… you…"
"Thank you… for everything…"
"And…for being my light… in this… dark world."
________________
"The world was his hell on earth, Jowy." He scattered more petals upon the otherwise bare grave. "And… I decided to show him his way to his heaven."
A gust of wind sent Jowy's long hair whipping against his pale face. He didn't bother to push it back and away though. Taking a deep breath, he inhaled the sweet scent of lavender oil mixed with the crushed petals of the white winter flowers.
"But I don't feel sorry for what I have done." He turned to face Jowy. "And you… You'll take that road not taken. And you'll bring peace to your land. And you'll bring happiness to your long-lost friend, the way I never could to mine."
"I hope so."
"Then take these," McDohl pushed the white flowers into Jowy's hands. "And your hope will become a reality."
Jowy let his tense face soften into a smile. "Thank you."
"And thank you," McDohl looked up into the winter sky. It was starting to snow. Gentle white flakes fluttered down like a million feathers from the wings of angels sighing down on man. The cold white flakes settled themselves on the two figures standing facing each other in the quiet churchyard and the frozen ground below. The landscape began turning white, covered by a layer of ice.
Spring was just around the corner.
To Be Continued